


As Time Goes By

by BBCShipper



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon, Turnadette - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-06 12:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14057130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BBCShipper/pseuds/BBCShipper
Summary: A look into Turnadette in the later years





	1. The Fundamental Things Apply, As Time Goes By

**Author's Note:**

> An as yet unknown number of chapters will follow (at least 2).  
> Title comes from the song in Casablanca because I am terrible at titles :-)
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : I own none of the characters except Bernadette

“Are you sure? You really mean it?” Shelagh asked, beaming with excitement, her eyes beginning to shine from the wetness of the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

“Of course! We want nothing more, that is, if you are willing to,” Bernadette replied.

“After all, Mum, you know I won’t settle for anything less than the best midwife in Poplar delivering my children” Tim added with a grin.

Shelagh blushed at the attention and praise, still reveling in the news her son had shared with them moments ago and his following request that she be the attending midwife. She couldn’t help but smile as Patrick put his arm around her shoulders, giving them a tight, reassuring squeeze. “Yes, only the best for my _grandchild_.” He still couldn’t believe the word belonged to him, giving the same grin his son had moments ago.

“Dear Bernadette, I am more than willing to be your midwife - I am over the moon thrilled about it!” Shelagh no longer tried to hold back the tears, allowing them to fall freely as she moved forward to embrace her daughter-in-law. “The moment you married Timothy, you became my daughter and I have never felt more blessed than I do in this moment. I really didn’t think anything could top the joy I felt when you and Timothy found each other and were married - I guess I was wrong!”

“Where is the video recorder when you need it? Your Mum admitted to being wrong! I’m not sure anyone is going to believe me.” Patrick smirked from behind his wife, giving Tim a far too obvious wink as Shelagh turned to swat at him with feigned indignity, all the while refusing to let go of her newest daughter.

“Honestly, Patrick, you don’t half know how to ruin a moment!”

Patrick grabbed her outreached hand, giving it a light kiss and then letting go to encompass both women in his arms. “You’re right dear, _as always_ ,” a statement accompanied by yet another lopsided grin and a sweet kiss upon the top of her head.

“Told you, Bernie, didn’t I?” Tim exclaimed, being met with confused glances from the soon to be grandparents. “Even in an announcement about us, they have to turn it into an opportunity for their mushy stuff!”

The room was soon filled with comfortable laughter, and Shelagh guided Bernadette to sit down as they talked. “What is so funny?” Angela asked as she and Teddy came in from the garden. “What did we miss?”

“Mushy stuff, Angela… Mushy stuff,” Tim replied in a rather over-exaggerated manner, delighting to see his younger brother rolling his eyes the way that Tim had taught him.

“Well that’s nothing new, they do it all the time!” Teddy looked disgusted. Tim looked proud.

Noticing that her mother hadn’t even given a second glance to the mocking by the brothers, Angela knew something else had happened entirely. “Mum,” she repeated pointedly, “What did we miss?”

Shelagh looked to Bernadette, assuming correctly that she would want to share the news herself. “I’m going to be having a baby, Angela! You’re going to be an Aunt!”

The young girl squealed with delight, grabbing Bernadette tightly, bouncing with excitement. “Mum is going to be your midwife, right? She has to be your midwife! She’s the best there is! I already told her that when I have children one day I want her there.” Angela gave a shy smile to her mother, “though Mum has assured me that it had better be a long way off!”

“A very long time, angel,” Patrick nodded, then adding with a grin: “In fact, have you ever considered becoming a nun?”

“Like that worked out for Mum!” Came the quick reply, everyone enveloped in laughter yet again. Well, everyone other than Teddy, who seemed much more serious about the news that had been shared. “Teddy, why don’t you look happy? Aren’t you excited to be an uncle?”

“Uncles are old… I’m only 9! I don’t know how to be an uncle!” Teddy looked as if he were about to cry, but not from joy as Shelagh had before. She pulled the young boy into her lap and held him close.

“My dear, you know that families come in all sorts of different ways. Not all uncles are old and I am certain you will be a wonderful uncle to baby. Think of all the fun you will have together as he or she grows!”

Liking the thought of being able to be in charge during play time for once, Teddy finally stated rather matter of factly, “All right, I’ll allow it. You can have a baby.”

Shelagh was certain that she had not laughed so much in a very long time. As she watched her littlest ones, who weren’t so little anymore, giggle and laugh, as she saw the joy in Tim at becoming a father, as she noticed her husband’s wide grin that had not left his face since the news came, Shelagh knew she had never been happier.

******

“Shelagh, are you still awake?” Patrick whispered quietly as he tiptoed into their bedroom that night, trying not to wake her if she had fallen asleep. The joy and excitement of the afternoon was wonderful, but also exhausting after a long morning at the surgery and on district rounds. The children had fallen asleep almost immediately and Shelagh had gone upstairs soon after, leaving Patrick to finish putting away the clean dishes. Rather than having gone to sleep, however, he found his wife sitting in the bed with tears in her eyes, looking over old photographs.

“When did our children grow so much, Patrick?”

“I thought you were happy about the baby, you’ve been secretly wondering when she would become pregnant since the moment they were married, I know you have.”

“Of course I’m happy, I’m going to be a grandmother! How can that fail to make me happy? But, well, I missed out on so much with Timothy - he was practically grown by the time we married, or so it felt. And now Angela is already older than he was then… it’s just happening so fast!”

Patrick walked around to Shelagh’s side of the bed, carefully removing the photographs from her lap and placing them on the end table. Moving her gently toward the middle of the bed, he sat down beside her and wrapped her in his arms, her head resting on his chest. “I’m sorry, my love, but that is the nature of life… And I’m sorry I was so selfish, I’ve made you a grandmother far too young,” Patrick gingerly ran his fingers through the strands of honey colored hair which framed his beautiful wife’s face.

“We’ve been through this, Patrick! You were no more selfish than I, we belong together - ‘two souls with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one’ - if you don’t mind me quoting a bit of Keats,” she lifted her head to give him a wide grin before he kissed her gently. “You and I both know I’m not young anymore… but, besides, we have had our share of young grandmothers in the Maternity Home, so who is to say what families ought to look like?”

“You are wrong again, dear, for the second time today,” Patrick’s graying hair fell across his face as he looked down at his wife, “You are still so young… and beautiful... and everything to me…” He slipped a hand under the hem of her nightdress, his voice becoming thick, “although I think I’m too old for this particular grandmother to be in the Maternity Home in anything other than that sexy uniform.”

Shelagh’s breath hitched, blushing as she did every time his voice took on that tone, no matter how many years they had been married. Patrick loved that about her, loved that she was still so excited to be with him, even after a decade of marriage. It left him in awe time and again that she would choose him. She turned on her side so that she could face him more, beginning to unbutton his shirt to press her hand upon the skin of his chest, “If I’m wrong, I think you’ll have to prove it to me.”


	2. And When Two Lovers Woo, They Still Say "I Love You"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I do not own anything, except Bernadette

There was a slight knock at the door to the house as it opened. Shelagh smiled, loving that Timothy still viewed their house as his home, letting himself in and out as he pleased. She loved that he had taught his young wife, Bernadette, to do the same.

“Hello, Mum!” Timothy and Bernadette greeted her, settling themselves into the sitting room, Bernadette taking a little longer to be situated, thanks to her ever-expanding stomach.

“Wonderful timing, you two!” Shelagh exclaimed, carrying in the tea and handing the first cup to a visibly grateful Bernadette. The poor woman looked quite uncomfortable these days, Shelagh made a mental note to check for swelling in her ankles later in the afternoon.

“What’s this about, Mum?” the pregnant woman asked. Shelagh had loved it when Bernadette had begun to call her Mum, because she definitely viewed the young woman as a daughter. Although she was even more excited to be called Grandmother.

“Sister Winifred and I have decided that you two need a party at Nonnatus, to celebrate the newest arrival. I wanted to confer with you on dates you might be free, I know you have a busy schedule getting everything ready for baby,” Shelagh glanced down again at the evidence of the newborn’s impending arrival. “You’re almost at the point of needing weekly examinations,” she said, almost as an afterthought.

“Ever the midwife! But, Mum, we don’t need a party. They gave us one when we were married, that was enough.”

“Nonsense! You are a part of Nonnatus House, just like your father and I. You’ve been a part of that house since you were a boy. And soon you'll take over your father's surgery and you'll become even more a part of the workings of that house. The people there love you, Timothy.”

“I know Mum, it’s just… Well, it’s not the same since… you know...”

“I know, dear, I know. The spirit of the house has not been quite the same with Sister Monica Joan gone,” Shelagh paused, lost in thought about her dear friend. Life at Nonnatus house moved on, of course - it had to, but it seemed for far too long that the vivacious spirit of the house had been dimmed. “But Sister Winifred made a promise to Sister Monica Joan that she would never miss an opportunity to have cake and she intends to deliver upon that promise” Shelagh smiled. While no one had been surprised by the elderly Sister’s passing, except perhaps that it had not happened sooner, it had still seemed to catch them off guard - as if they expected her to outlive them all. 

The room fell quiet in bittersweet remembrances until Bernadette offered softly, “I remember the first time you introduced me to Sister Monica Joan.” She looked up at her husband and took his hand, “It reminded me a lot of how we first met.”

Tim chuckled at the thought, “You know, I hadn’t realized it, but you’re right.”

******

It was a warm evening and Tim had far more places he’d rather be than at some party at the house of a friend he barely knew and would probably never see again after university. But he knew that he would begin his more hands-on, practical training at his father's surgery the next year and that would take all his focus. He was excited to get started working, he had put in far too many hours becoming qualified not to be, but he also remembered his dad’s frequent exhaustion and being called out all hours of the day. Tim wanted to be a doctor; he knew it was his calling, but he didn’t romanticize it, it was going to be difficult. He might as well enjoy parties while he could get to them. 

He saw a girl with dark brown hair on the other side of the room, standing alone near the door, looking about as happy to be there as he was. Picking up a second cup of punch, Tim crossed the room. As he approached, Tim studied her, she looked to be a little younger than him and almost as tall. And _beautiful_ , so _very beautiful_. He offered her the cup, attempting to act like the gentleman Mum had tried to teach him to be. “Hello! Would you like some punch?”

She hesitated at first, but accepted the offered cup, taking a small sip. “Thank you. I'm Bernadette.”

Tim couldn't help it. He knew it was not something a gentleman would do, but he let a loud peal of laughter burst out, instantly regretting it. “Sorry, it's just that you don't look like a Bernadette to me.” _You're more like a beautiful Chummy, really,_ he thought to himself. 

Obviously quite offended and not wanting to be the butt of anyone's joke, Bernadette stammered out, “I happen to like my name and since I don't even know yours, there's no reason for me to stay here to be laughed at.” She turned away, quickly making her way through the nearby door. 

Timothy caught up with her outside, gently placing his hand on her arm, not forcing her to stop, but seeking a chance to apologize again. “I really am sorry I offended you, I couldn't stop myself. Bernadette is a wonderful name, it's just, I used to know a Bernadette, Sister Bernadette actually, and, well, you're so tall compared to her it simply made me laugh. She is quite short, you see…” Timothy fumbled over the apology, not sure she would forgive him, but desperately wanting her to. “There's nothing wrong with your height, though,” and before he realized he was saying it out loud, he added, “There's nothing wrong with any part of you, actually.”

Bernadette had decided to hear him out, since he had the decency to come after her, but she had not expected to actually believe anything he would say. But at his last words, she couldn't help but turn and look into his eyes, startled. She had never thought of herself as overly beautiful, not unpretty, just not one who would attract the attention of men at first glance. One look into this stranger's eyes, however, and she felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. He looked at her in a way she felt she had never been looked at before, and may never again if she walked away. His eyes were green and beautiful and his hair fell playfully above them as he looked down, interpreting her silence as a rejection of his apology. She couldn't let him go. “I was named after a nun, actually,” she blurted out, though she couldn't name why. It struck her odd the way he had described the Sister he knew, once using past tense and once using the present. 

“Really?” he laughed again, but this time more of a sweet chuckle that stirred memories deep within him. 

She longed to know what those memories were. “Well, sort of,” she giggled, “A nun in a movie, anyway. My mum absolutely loved _The Song of Bernadette_ and waited years for a girl so she could name me after the nun. Too bad I had so many older brothers first.” 

There was that memory-filled chuckle again, “that movie may have been why Mum chose the name Bernadette too,” Tim offered.

“Wait, _**‘Mum’**_?!?!”

Tim blushed, time having erased the sensationalism that surrounded his parents marriage so many years ago. “Yes. A year or so after my first mum died, dad fell in love with a nun, Sister Bernadette, and she left the order so they could be married.”

Bernadette looked at this strange person before her, wondering what other strange revelations might spill from his lips next. Somehow, she was falling for this boy she didn't even know, eyes lingering on those lips now, wondering how they might taste upon hers. _What am I thinking? I just came out for a bit of fun, not to lose myself over some guy!_ “I don't even know your name,” she realized aloud. 

“Tim.”

“There, we've made a start.”

******

When the happy couple came to Nonnatus to celebrate their engagement, and so Bernadette could meet all of the Sisters who meant so much to Tim, she could feel love permeating every bit of the house. Bernadette was quickly welcomed into this eclectic family, filled with nuns, a former nun, nurses, a handyman and his haberdasher wife. She almost immediately felt foolish for how nervous she had been on the ride into Poplar. Tim had told her how loving they were, but she had never expected this much instant acceptance and grace. Bernadette had grown up in a loving family, but had never known a love this strong that extended beyond the walls of her home. Perhaps that was the difference between living in the country and in the crowded city. Here in Poplar, people were forced together whether they liked it or not, and so this family, brought together from all parts of the world, chose to live their lives in unity and love. This type of life might break others apart, but it had only served to bring the Nonnatuns closer together.

When Tim introduced her to Sister Monica Joan, Bernadette could see why everyone loved this nun so much. She was an enigma, yes, with a spirit and child-like joy that disguised her age and quoting Keats and Shakespeare with the mind of one much younger, yet also not always clear on what was occurring in the present. “This is Bernadette,” Tim proudly stated to the elderly nun.

“That’s not Bernadette, young man,” Sister Monica Joan responded, her eyes seeming to cloud over briefly, “that young sister left us long ago… Besides, she is much too tall. She must be a Chummy!” And off the Sister went in search of cake.


	3. On This We Can Rely, No Matter What the Future Brings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I continue to own nothing, except Bernadette and now her parents :-)
> 
> Sorry, this chapter wound up a bit longer than I'd anticipated!

Shelagh breathed a sigh of relief when the day of the party arrived. She had been somewhat worried with how big baby was growing and how early baby had turned that it would come before they could celebrate its arrival. And while Shelagh knew no one at Nonnatus would mind having the baby come and celebrate with them, it would throw a wrinkle in her plans and as much as she loved her future grandchild, she did like things to be done in their proper order. But, the day was here and baby was not, so all was well.

Shelagh had asked to take Nurse Anderson’s overnight on-call so that she would not have to worry about being called to a birth the next day. As she finally relaxed into a chair at 6am, she was glad she did. There had, by some miracle of God, only been one call overnight, and that was simply a case of Braxton Hicks contractions terrifying a first time mother, so Shelagh was left with a lot of free time as she listened for the telephone. The nurses and nuns were astounded as they came down the stairs for breakfast, their dining room transformed overnight by a diligent, and now napping, Shelagh.

“My dear Shelagh,” Sister Julienne whispered as she shook the sleeping woman’s shoulder gently rousing her for breakfast, “you know I was planning on helping you this morning! You did not have to do all this by yourself! Come have some breakfast so that you can have a proper rest in a real bed. You won’t be doing anyone any good later if your muscles are so sore you cannot stand up!”

Shelagh smiled at her friend. Their relationship had certainly changed over the many years they knew each other. When she first arrived at Nonnatus as Sister Bernadette, the timid nun viewed Sister Julienne almost in fear, as not many authority figures in her past had been kind, at least not since her mother’s death. But that view quickly changed, and she came to view the elder Sister as a mentor, even a mother. One of Shelagh’s biggest fears when she left the order was how her relationship with Sister Julienne would change, she was terrified the older woman would be too disappointed in her to continue their relationship. She could not have been more wrong. Of course, the time of transition was difficult, there was pain and hurt involved in her leaving that could not be ignored, but as those rocky patches smoothed, it paved the way for a friendship stronger than Shelagh had ever had with anyone besides Patrick. More than a mother to her now, Sister Julienne was her closest friend. Wiping the memories and the sleep away, Shelagh was able to sit up slowly. “I wanted to surprise you. Besides, I’ve left plenty of baking for you to help me with.”

As Sister Julienne helped her to the table and handed her a warm cup of tea, Shelagh examined the room once more, this time seeing beyond the decorations to the memories this room held in the past. Yes, so much had changed - _has it really been more than 20 years?_ The thought seems unimaginable, yet one glance at the table proved its truth. So many of the people who were there when she first arrived as Sister Bernadette were gone, with new faces having replaced them.

Sister Winifred had taken over the running of Nonnatus House under the supervision of Sister Julienne three years earlier. The shift came as a part of their, thankfully successful, attempt at proving that both Nonnatus House and the Maternity Home were not relics of the past, but still essential elements of Poplar. The modernization of the Maternity Home was a difficult transition, but it allowed them to remain open for far longer than most would have assumed. Just prior to the modernization, Nurse Crane announced her decision to retire, hanging up her nurses’ cap for good - although rumor had it that she may have taken up a position in a small practice out in the country shortly thereafter. Nurse Franklin was now in charge of the nurses, and she ran a tighter ship than Shelagh had ever expected of her, it would have made even Sister Evangelina proud. Yes, times had changed drastically, but life was also still very much the same.

******

By the time Tim and Bernadette arrived that afternoon, everything else was in place for the party. Bernadette had not taken more than two steps into the building before nurses and nuns were offering her tea, a place to put up her feet, and marveling at the seemingly quick progression of her pregnancy. “Are you sure you have your dates right?” Trixie asked, “You look rather farther along than 36 weeks!”

“I’m beginning to wonder that myself! But you know Tim won’t be told he’s wrong” she said with a wink at her husband, who put on a face of mock disbelief. Bernadette truly liked Trixie and wished she could have known the nurse in the days of Tim’s childhood. She respected Trixie’s openness about her struggle with alcoholism and had found that she was quite fun to be with when off duty. Bernadette linked arms with the nurse and walked away from her husband toward her parents, who were standing in the corner of the room alone. “Come on Trixie, my parents look in need of cake!”

Mr. and Mrs. Lewis looked terribly uncomfortable, despite the many people trying to make them feel welcome. The farmers always felt out of place while in the city, they were far more comfortable when they could see green for miles than when tall buildings boxed them in, blocking a proper view of even the sky. Their comfort level at the party was not helped by the awkward relationship that existed between themselves and Dr. and Mrs. Turner; they would not even be here at all if Bernadette had not insisted that they come.

Mrs. Lewis and Mrs. Turner had not gotten off to a very good start, even before they were introduced. As their daughter had weaved the tale of the fascinating boy she met at a party, they smiled sweetly, until she mentioned his mother had been a nun. Mrs. Lewis didn’t take too kindly to those who could not keep their word, even when it was inconvenient. Her assumptions about Mrs. Turner’s character, that her faith could not have been genuine and that she must be a flighty and reckless woman to abandon her vows, made their first interactions rather painful for the family to watch. To her credit, Mrs. Lewis had at least not gone as far as her friends had, insinuating impropriety in their relations before she left the order or that their marriage was invalid in the eyes of God, leaving Teddy an illegitimate child. No, she wouldn’t go that far at least.

Bernadette was determined that her two families would share the love she knew they could, and not just for the sake of their shared grandchild. “Mum, why don’t you go talk to Shelagh, I’m sure she’d love to chat with you!”

“No, thank you dear” came the curt reply.

Trixie knew of the tension between the mothers. Both Bernadette and Shelagh had lamented the strained relationship, and so she had decided to take matters in her own hands. Steering Bernadette back away from her parents by their still interlocked arms, she gave a slight nod to Delia.

Seeing her cue, Delia approached the lonely couple with a broad smile. “Hello! I’m Nurse Busby, I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet you at the wedding, but babies don’t wait for ceremonies to finish!”

The couple smiled politely, Mrs. Lewis speaking first, “You’re a midwife, then? That’s nice.”

“Yes, I really enjoy it. I did not begin as a midwife, but now I know there is nothing I would rather be doing!” Then, changing her her cheerful tone to one she hoped was not overly obvious in its melancholy, “I just wish my mum could understand that.”

“She doesn’t want you to be a midwife?”

“She didn’t want me living in the city. We haven’t spoken in several years. I miss her, but I won’t give up my calling and my friends, even for her.”

Trixie watched the interaction from the opposite of the room, smiling broadly, assuming from Mrs. Lewis’ astonished and then crestfallen face that her plan appeared to be working.

As Delia, who gave a quick wink to Trixie, walked away, Mrs. Lewis stood stunned. She mulled over the words of the Welsh nurse in her mind, realizing that she too was pushing her daughter away by her actions. Quickly turning to her husband she informed him, with no room for argument, “I will not lose my daughter over hasty judgments of character and an inability to compromise. And I definitely will _not_ lose my grandchild!”

Mrs. Lewis walked determinedly toward Mrs. Turner, who was by a table covered with all manner of cakes, pastries, and biscuits, facing the opposite direction as she conversed with two nuns. Mrs. Lewis overheard the tiny woman talking excitedly about Bernadette, throwing in some medical jargon she assumed had something to do with the pregnancy. Sister Winifred smiled at Shelagh, “I know you’re excited about baby, but you really do need some rest tonight, I cannot believe you haven’t slept since yesterday! I’ll ask Nurse Franklin to remove you from tomorrow’s rounds. We can cover it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it!” Shelagh exclaimed, “all the effort was worth it to see Bernadette’s face! And you all did more than I did, those clothes must have taken you many evenings to knit and Sister Winifred, your painting for their nursery is beautiful!”

She knew it wasn’t right to eavesdrop on conversations, but she figured the nuns would be forgiving, so Mrs. Lewis grabbed a biscuit to nibble as she listened to the conversation, her back turned. She had only interacted with Mrs. Turner at their respective homes and at the church during the wedding, she had never really had a chance to see Mrs. Turner conversing with her former sisters. She had walked over determined to not let Mrs. Turner’s past bother her, but the longer she listened to this conversation, the longer she realized that perhaps her judgement really had been too hasty. She had expected some sort of icy silence to exist between Mrs. Turner and the nuns, or at most a professional civility, but they genuinely cared for one another. How could that be if Mrs. Lewis’ first impressions of Mrs. Turner’s faith had been correct? And did she really decorate all night for this party? The more Mrs. Lewis heard, the more she knew she had been incorrect about Mrs. Turner, especially when the sweet Scottish woman could not seem to stop singing the praises of her precious Bernadette.

“Mrs. Turner,” Mrs. Lewis stepped toward the woman, knowing she had to be brave, though admitting her faults was not one of her strengths, “can I speak to you a moment?”

“Of course!” Shelagh smiled politely, though clearly with her guard up, not sure what the interaction would bring.

Sister Julienne gave Shelagh a reassuring smile before the pair of nuns walked away to give the two mothers some privacy. Mrs. Lewis swallowed back her fear and stated simply, “Mrs. Turner, I’m sorry. I was wrong about you and I want nothing more than your forgiveness.” Shelagh was quite taken aback by this statement and started to speak, but Mrs. Lewis held up a hand to stop her, knowing that she needed to get everything out in the open at once. “I have heard the way my daughter speaks about you and your family. I honestly thought you had somehow duped her, and I’ll admit to straining my relationship with her over our disagreements about your past. I cannot pretend to understand it, but I see now that she was right. I’m so sorry.”

So much was running through Shelagh’s mind that she wasn’t sure where to begin. She glanced over at Patrick, who was talking with Fred but whose eyes had not left her since Mrs. Lewis approached her, ready to come to her aid if necessary. Looking back at the woman before her, Shelagh allowed two small tears to trickle down her face before embracing Mrs. Lewis, whispering into her ear, “The past is behind us now, today is about new beginnings. Please, call me Shelagh.”

The room had quieted to utter silence, even young Teddy, who never seemed to stop chattering, mouth agape in shock over seeing the two women embrace so fondly. Tim pulled Bernadette close as she began sobbing into his shoulder, apologizing for her pregnancy hormones, though he was shedding a tear or two as well. The revenant moment was not broken for several minutes until the ringing of the telephone shattered the silence, the party resuming as if life had not completely been altered forever for the two families. “Thank you” was all Bernadette managed to choke out to her mother, but it was enough.

Several hours later, those who had entered Nonnatus House as strangers left it as a family, Shelah glancing toward heaven in silent prayers of thanks. “Thanks for everything, Mum!” Tim beamed as he hugged her, “I’m not sure I’m going to need to eat for two days after all that cake!”

Bernadette offered both her mothers hugs goodbye, promising Shelagh she would phone at the slightest twitch of labor. _I don’t care if he’s full,_ she thought to herself, _I hope Tim grabbed some of those extra biscuits to bring home, I could really go for a pink wafer..._


	4. Moonlight and Love Songs, Never Out of Date

Tim had indeed brought home some extra biscuits - Sister Winifred had apparently made up a rather large bag filled with goodies for the couple to take home. Bernadette found the bag in the kitchen after her fifth trip to the bathroom that night as she wandered around, longing for sleep her body clearly did not want to allow. She told herself she would only eat one or two biscuits, just enough to ease the slight rumble she felt in her stomach. A short time later, looking down at the abundance of empty wrappers and piles of crumbs before her, Bernadette discovered she had lied. Feeling torn between the guilt of eating so many of the sweets that were probably intended for both of them to share over the course of days and the justification she felt at eating whatever she pleased, she was eating for two after all, Bernadette made up her mind to grab the rest of the pink wafers and head back to bed. They would make an excellent breakfast in bed in a few hours.

As beams of sunlight shone across the bed, waking Tim from a restful slumber, he smiled. He found himself waking with a smile on his face a lot lately, he enjoyed opening his eyes every morning to the sight of his beautiful wife, her stomach growing larger by the day as their child grew within her. Tim would marvel at how gorgeous she was, each morning wondering how it was at all possible for her to have become even more beautiful overnight. He chuckled to himself as he thought back over all the times he had genuinely hated seeing his parent’s “mushy stuff” and how he now understood the overwhelming desire to simply be in his wife’s presence, her soul filling his own with light and love. He really had turned into quite the romantic, hadn’t he? Tim turned over on the mattress, reaching out his hand to caress his wife’s stomach, but encountered something else entirely. Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and allowed them to adjust to the light. “ _What_ am I sleeping in?” he asked her, brushing the grit and crumbs off of his hands.

Bernadette gave him a sheepish smile, taking another bite before answering, “I got a little peckish last night… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to eat them all!” She stretched out a hand toward him, “Biscuit? It’s the last one, I’m afraid. Well, last half of one, anyway.”

“Are those pink wafers? You’ve eaten them all?” Bernadette couldn’t understand the grin that lit up Tim’s face at that moment.

“Yes, why? What’s going on Tim? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re not upset to wake up covered in biscuit crumbs, but… why do you have that silly grin on your face?” His face was exuding pure joy. She was certain hers was exuding pure confusion. “Really what is going _uggghh_ ” an uninvited groan left her lips before she could finish the question and she grabbed her abdomen. “I think I may have overdone it on the biscuits, dear.”

“I think I’m calling my mother, sweetheart” Timothy replied as he jumped from the bed and ran to the telephone.

“Turner residence” the sweet voice called out. Tim was glad it was Mum who answered, he knew Angela had developed a habit of racing to get there first lately as Dad had made it a habit to try to embarrass her whenever her friends called. Not that Tim minded talking to Angela, but he wanted to get right to the point and back to Bernadette.

“Mum, Bernadette ate an entire packet of pink wafers overnight.”

The the briefest of pauses followed, and Tim could practically hear his mum’s smile through the telephone line. “I’m on the way.”

Tim quickly replaced the receiver and rushed back to Bernadette’s side. “Any more contractions?”

“I’m not even sure that was a contraction, I’ve only had the one. Really, you’re overreacting. Please tell me you didn’t already call Mum?” Her point was invalidated, however, by another small pain.

Tim checked his watch, kicking himself for not having checked the time of her first contraction so he could determine exactly how long it had been. He estimated about eight minutes, they still had quite a ways to go. “I’ll go wake your parents, let them know we’ll be having company soon.”

Bernadette smiled in appreciation as she tried to clean up the evidence of her early morning feast. “I’m glad we convinced them to stay last night. And I’m glad they made peace with Mum.” Relief washed over her face at the remembrance and she settled back into the bed. “Tell Mum to send Dad over to the Hand and Shears as soon as he’s finished breakfast. I don’t fancy him hearing me screaming all day.”

******

It didn’t take Shelagh long to arrive. After dropping her two youngest off with friends and promising Patrick that someone would update him when it was almost time for baby, she had raced over, probably breaking a few traffic laws in the process. Standing on the doorstep, she took a moment to slow her frantic breathing and will herself to calm down. _I’m about to deliver my first grandchild_ , she sang joyfully in her head as she let herself into the house.

Mrs. Lewis had dutifully sent her husband away and begun preparing hot water and towels and anything else she thought her daughter might need. She really did marvel at Bernadette, at how opposite she was to her own way of thinking. With all these modern conveniences practically at her doorstep, her daughter was choosing to give birth at home. With her mother-in-law as her midwife. Thinking back on her rocky relationship with her own mother-in-law, Mrs. Lewis simply couldn’t imagine it. She was startled out of her remembrances when Shelagh let herself in, reminding herself that Mrs. Turner was nothing like her husband’s mother, and determined to continue to build the relationship they had begun the day before. “Bernie is upstairs. Her pains are about five minutes apart.”

Shelagh rushed to the bedroom just in time to see Bernadette’s waters trickle to the floor where she stood supported by Tim. “Looks like things are progressing nicely!” Shelagh could not help but grin from ear to ear, “now onto the bed so I can check your progress.”

Labor progressed smoothly and without complication. Patrick closed the surgery much earlier than he had planned, afraid to miss the sounds of his grandchild’s first cry, but he wasn’t needed so he remained in the hallway with Mrs. Lewis. The two stood in silence as they listened to their daughter’s cries, noting how close together those cries were becoming and hearing Tim’s gentle encouragement through each one. Patrick strained his ears to hear his wife’s lilting voice coach Bernadette through the process - he loved to watch her work and wished he could see her face in this moment.

Inside the room, Tim sat behind his wife, supporting her with his whole being, Mum having told him just how much it helped when Dad had done that for her. Tim marveled again at Bernadette’s beauty in this moment and the strength she had to push through the agony. He held her hands, stroked her hair, and whispered encouragement into her ear.

Shelagh was so proud of her boy, sending him a smile that she hoped would communicate that to him as she coached Bernadette through the pushes. Soon their efforts were rewarded as she guided the baby into the world, followed by the sweetest sound any of them had ever heard as baby made his presence known to the world. Shelagh could not help but cry as she cut the cord of her grandson and placed a tender kiss upon his forehead.

“Mum, you’re going to get him wet!” Tim teased her, his grin so much like his father’s as he hugged his wife close.

“Well, he does need a bath!” she quipped back, handing the freshly bundled baby to an also weeping Bernadette, followed by a shout towards the doorway, “it’s a boy!”

Patrick couldn’t believe his ears - a grandson! He and Mrs. Lewis, with no other outlet for their great joy available to them, hugged each other tightly as they congratulated one another. Mrs. Lewis telephoned the pub, but Mr. Lewis declined to come home immediately, stating that he’d see the baby just as well later as he would now. Patrick was puzzled by this man, but, then again, he was probably not as accustomed to being near a birth as Patrick was.

After what felt like hours, Shelagh opened the door with a smile on her face bigger than Patrick had ever seen. Patrick’s smile began to rival his wife’s as he took in the sight of his son, cradling his wife in his arms as she cradled their boy in hers. Allowing Mrs. Lewis the chance to hold the boy first, Patrick crossed the room to embrace Shelagh. “I was right,” he whispered into her ear, “you are the most beautiful grandmother I’ve ever seen.”

Shelagh blushed at the comment, keeping her voice low as she responded, “and you are the most handsome grandfather.” Looking up into his eyes and beaming once again, she wrapped her arms around his lower back, pulling him closer, “Patrick, I don’t know if I’ve ever been happier. You would be so proud of both of them, they were truly marvelous!”

“You are truly marvelous,” he responded, cupping his hand under her chin and giving her a quick kiss.

Patrick stepped out of Shelagh’s embrace to place his hand upon the small of her back and lead her closer to the newest addition to the family. “May I?” he asked Mrs. Lewis, reaching for the boy he was longing to see. Patrick rocked the infant gently for a few moments before laying him on the bed to carry out a quick examination, wanting confirmation that all was well. “Fit as a fiddle,” he finally pronounced, scooping the tiny babe back into his arms and turning to Bernadette, “so what are we going to call him then?”

The couple shared a knowing glance and Bernadette gave a soft nod toward Tim as he spoke: “Patrick Lewis Turner”


	5. Hearts Full of Passion, Jealousy, and Hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of this fic. Hope you've enjoyed it!!

Patrick turned and sat down on the bed, his knees suddenly weak beneath him, “Patrick Lewis Turner,” he repeated to himself softly, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re naming him Patrick?” He was stunned, thinking back upon Tim’s childhood, acutely aware of just how much he had missed and all he had done wrong during that time. “Are you sure?” he really didn’t feel worthy of the honor.

“Dad, I know what you’re thinking, but you really were a good father before Mum died and we did have a rough time of it after, but you made up for it all by marrying my favorite nun,” he grinned that lopsided grin he had inherited from his father. “We are completely certain.”

Shelagh sat beside him on the bed, rubbing her small hand in circles upon his back, with tears trailing lazily down her face once more. She had lost count of the number of times she had cried with joy that day. “It’s a wonderful name,” and noticing the way that baby Patrick was beginning to root around Grandpa Patrick’s chest she added, “but I think it’s time you give your namesake back to his mother. He appears to be getting hungry.”

Mrs. Lewis, now the only person in the room not sitting on the small bed was starting to feel uncomfortable, she was not a highly emotional person and even though the baby in front of her was her own grandson, she suddenly felt as if she were an intruder upon this close-knit family. “I can go make up a bottle if you tell me where you’ve put the milk?” she offered, desperate to feel useful.

“Mum, we talked about this. I want to do things my own way, the way we feel is best for baby Patrick,” she shifted in place as Patrick placed the baby gently back into her arms, “besides, we haven’t bought any canned milk.”

“I just don’t understand why you’d go through all that trouble and pain. I did it because I had to, but you have a choice. There’s so much convenience I wish I could have had that you are choosing to ignore!” she really could not understand any of her daughter’s choices anymore. “I can phone the pub again, get your dad to stop by the store on his way back.”

Bernadette’s protest was interrupted by Shelagh, who knew that the very worst thing for her right now was stress. “Alright, men, out! We’ve got work to do in here and you are not invited!” she demanded in a playful, yet no nonsense tone as she shooed them out of the room.

Crossing to sit on the bed beside Bernadette, Shelagh began to show the new mother how to feed the baby properly. Bernadette winced as the baby began to suckle and Mrs. Lewis again felt like the intruder rather than the mother. “I’ll just step outside, get started washing some of these things,” she muttered, scooping up a handful of dirtied linens and towels.

“We need to make sure his lips aren’t tucked inward, he’s not getting a proper latch,” Shelagh instructed, taking note of Mrs. Lewis’ exit, but unsure how to reassure her and keep Bernadette relaxed at the same time. “That’s it! His lips need to be poking out, just like that!”

“Oh, that hurts a lot less now, thank you,” Bernadette smiled at Shelagh, then allowed her gaze to fall down to the baby at her breast. “I just don’t get why Mum doesn’t understand how much nursing Patrick means to me.”

“She just wants to give you things she never had, dear. Try not to worry about it, we don’t want any stress right now. It’s just you and baby.” The two women spent the next while in silence, watching baby Patrick in awe as he continued to nurse. “It means a lot to me too,” Shelagh broke the quiet, “that you are naming the baby Patrick, I mean.”

Bernadette leaned toward her mother-in-law so that the sides of their heads were pressed together, “When Tim and I first started dating I was so nervous to meet the two of you, did you know that?” Feeling the small shake of the other woman’s head, she continued, “he spoke of you all so much and so highly, I was so afraid you wouldn’t like me and it would end things. But you have welcomed me into your home and into your hearts and I couldn’t be more grateful - you really are a mum and dad to me.”

Shelagh gave a soft chuckle, “Bernadette, Timothy was too smitten with you to ever let you go, and he still is. And you know we love you like our own. Now why don’t you get a bit of rest, there are plenty of grandparents ready to take shifts with this little one while you take a nap. You have definitely earned it!” Shelagh lifted the newborn gently out of his mother’s arms and helped her lay down on the bed.

******

“You’re not an outsider you know; she still loves you and you will always be her mother,” Shelagh proclaimed to Mrs. Lewis as she handed off the sleeping bundle in her arms.

“I never said… How did you… What…” Mrs. Lewis fumbled over her words, _how did this woman read my mind_ , she wondered to herself. “That is to say, I know that deep down, but she seems so different to me - and so very much like you.”

A small smile creeped across Shelagh’s lips, “yes, that is very true, but that doesn’t mean you are unimportant to her. I may think of her as my daughter, but you will always be her Mum.”

“Thank you” was all she could manage. She trusted it would be enough.

******

Shelagh and the children spent most of the time she wasn’t on duty at Tim and Bernadette’s flat. The children adored their new nephew and Shelagh was glad to help Bernadette with chores around the house after her parents went back home, not to mention that she loved snuggling with baby Patrick as much as possible. So when Bernadette and the baby showed up at the house one afternoon, Shelagh was delighted, but also a little confused, “What are you doing here, dear? I thought we were bringing you supper tonight at the flat?”

Bernadette, eyes red and brimming with tears, exhaustion, and frustration, pushed a screaming Patrick into Shelagh’s arms. “I don’t know what’s wrong, he won’t stop crying,” she fell into a crumpled heap onto the armchair, face buried in her hands, “I tried nursing him, changing him, rocking him, I tried everything… he just won’t stop!” She looked up at the newborn, dejected, “perhaps I’m not cut out for this after all.”

“Sweetheart, you are most definitely cut out for this!” Shelagh shifted the babe in her arms to kneel in front of her daughter-in-law, “we all have times when it’s overwhelming. I’m so glad you came here for help.” She reached out and caressed Bernadette’s cheek with a smile, “perhaps he just wanted some time with Granny. Why don’t you get some rest?”

“I’d rather take a walk,” Bernadette admitted sheepishly, “to just go out without a pram and be alone with my thoughts for a little while, is that alright?”

“Perfectly alright!” Shelagh helped Bernadette stand and led her out the door before she could change her mind, “Patrick and I will be just fine.” Shutting the front door and turning her attention to the newborn, “now dear, whatever is the matter? Tell Granny all about it.”

When Patrick came home after his rounds a little while later, Angela and Teddy were playing outside. “Sorry, Dad, but you’ve been replaced!” Angela called out with a smile, happy to tease him for a change, “And I’m not sure you’ll ever get Mum back if she has anything to say about it.” As he went inside, his heart leapt with joy at the sight of his wife swaying and cradling his namesake in her arms. She hadn’t heard him come in, and he crept slowly closer, trying not to alert her to his presence just yet.

As Patrick came closer, he realized she was singing, “all too soon my secret love, became impatient to be free…”

“So I told a friendly star, the way that dreamers often do,” Patrick continued the song while coming up behind his wife wrapping his arms around her waist, “just how wonderful you are and why I’m so in love with you.” Hooking a finger under Shelagh’s chin, Patrick turned her face to meet his and kissed her firmly, “Angela told me I’d been replaced.” He grinned down at the sleeping bundle in her arms, “I can’t say that I mind, though. Where’s Bernadette?”

“She went for a walk. Patrick just wouldn’t settle, she needed a break.” Grandpa Patrick nodded his head in understanding, he remembered those newborn days well and he was in his fair share of homes with infants throughout the day. “In the end, I think he just needed a song.” Shelagh gave a soft sigh and leaned back into her husband’s arms, “Our song seemed appropriate enough.”

“Have I told you lately how glad I am our secret love’s no secret anymore?” He breathed her scent in deeply and held her close, “because I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”


End file.
